TW Casefiles: Silver Linings (3)

Susan and I were shown to our table, an intimate booth nestled under the large leafy arms of a potted plant. Our table gave both of us a perfect view of the waterfall. Torrents of crystal clear water cascaded down to a small pool on the far side of the restaurant. Candles dotted around the tables cast a warm flickering glow across the scene, illuminating the mist from the waterfall like fairy dust. It was an utterly magical moment. How I wished that such a moment would last forever; A brief window of bliss, before the coming storm.

Our waiter handed us each a menu, and took a drinks order as we perused the menu in silence. Desperate to ease the tension I could feel building, I spoke.

"So, what are you thinking of ordering?" It wasn't exactly inventive, but it was the best I could think of.

"Honestly, I'd take anything. I'm starved! I've been helping my cousin pick a wedding outfit all day. All day!" Sue replied, smiling.

Again, I began to doubt myself. Was she beeping her usual amusing self, or was she flippant? Maybe she wasn't being serious because she didn't see our relationship as serious. I knew I was being idiotic, and taking everything far too seriously, but I couldn't help my mind running off on such tangents. For as long as I could remember, my mind was always like this; Assuming the worst, searching for the negative interpretation, and it took great effort to overcome the initial fears I always had. But I wasn't going to let my mind get in the way. Not this time.

"Who's getting married?" I asked, in a voice that I hoped sounded genuinely chipper, but was probably forced.

"Denise. She's a close friend of my cousin, Jane. The wedding is in January, so Jane needs my help to pick a dress. Not to sound ungrateful of course, I love her to bits, but why she thinks I know about fashion, is anyone's guess."

"Not at all! I mean look at you. That dress is beautiful on you." I replied.

"Nah. Thanks though. Besides, I didn't even pick this out. Jane bought it for me on my birthday. In her words 'If I'm to be seen with you, Suzie, you're going to look your best.' Don't get me wrong. She's lovely. Just a little materialistic."

Curses! Political minefield. Behind my concerned gaze I was freaking out. If I agreed, then Sue might think I was offending Jane, but if I didn't Sue might feel I wasn't respecting her opinion. Again, this was a time in my life when I felt that I could do no right. My subconscious excelled at warping my worldview to fit the narrative of my ineptitude. Such thoughts were not really my own.

The waiter returned to take out order, absolving me from the responsibility of answering Susan. I ordered a roast breast of duck with a medley of vegetables, while Susan went for the lamb shank. As the waiter scurried away, Susan spoke to me again.

"So, what made you choose this place, Arven?"

"Why?" I asked, concerned. "Is there a problem with it? I'm sure we could cancel our..." I stammered.

"What? No! I mean, I love it! It's all so magical. Thanks for taking me here." She exclaimed, then after a small pause, she continued.
"Unless of course, you're not happy with it?"

"Not at all!" I replied, quickly. "It's awesome here. I just wanted to make sure you we happy with it..." I decided it best to change the subject.
"Actually, Tony was the one who recommended it. He was here with Sarah last month."

"Let me guess, he was 'gushing with praise' over the waterfall, wasn't he?" She joked.

I laughed in reply. "Yeah, you could say that his praise was free-flowing." 

"Woooow..." Sue drew out the word. "I couldn't say which pun was worse."

"Well, yours actually made sense, so this time it was mine."

"Fine. Fine. You win, King Punderful." She said, faking a sulk. "But don't get too cocky. I'll have my revenge!"

Suddenly, I realized my cheeks were pained. I was smiling so hard that it hurt. I couldn't remember when I'd last felt so content and just... at ease. No worries, no stresses, no racing thoughts... just living in the moment with the person I loved. However, I know better than most that good things don't last. As I sat there, smiling, I felt my phone vibrate. Almost without thinking, I took it out and checked my notifications. The Torchwood systems had picked up on a Garda dispatch to UCC. I realized how rude I was being on my phone, and chose to put it away. Whatever was going on could wait a few hours. I had a date to focus on.

Sue and I continued to enjoy each others company as our food was brought out. We chatted about work, and life and our mutual acquaintances as we enjoyed the feast before us. I'd even managed to mostly silence my negative instincts and live in the moment for once. As the waiter cleared our table and left us a pair of desert menus, I felt my phone vibrate once again. Almost instinctively, I had my phone in hand as I read the latest updates. The medical Campus had been cordoned off once more, and another student was reportedly missing, having apparently vanished from the same pathway as the previous girl. Something sinister was afoot, I'd have to investigate it soon. But it could wait until the morning, I decided.

As I put my phone away, I realized Sue was staring at me, brow slightly furrowed.
"Something the matter, Arven?" she asked, a little too tersely. How long had I been on my phone for?

"Err, well..." I began, before stopping myself. I couldn't be honest here, could I? I couldn't exactly use "alien scheme" as an excuse for being rude on a date. This wasn't the time to explain my life to her. Nor could I say I was checking the news, because that would just be rude. I'm not proud of the excuse I stumbled upon however.

"Sorry. Just checking in with home. My grandad is in hospital." I lied, surprising myself with the scope of it.

"Oh my God! I'm sorry! What's wrong?" Sue asked, an adorable ball of concern.

"Oh nothing like that." I backpedalled, fighting the guilt I was feeling. "It's a relatively minor thing. But it's just at his age anything sounds worse than it is."

"Well, if you need to step out and take a call, please do. I wish him the best." Just as I thought I'd gotten away with it, Sue frowned at me.
"Hang on... I thought you told me you only had one grandparent left. Your Nana."

"Urk!" I exclaimed.

"Arven. I don't care about you checking your phone. It's 2016. But for God's sake please don't insult my intelligence by lying to me." She said, voice soft with anger.

"Sue. I can explain..."

"Leave it. I don't want to hear another excuse. I just want you to be honest with me Arven. Look..." she said, pausing to sigh.
"Ever since you asked me out, you've been acting kind of weird. You're not as chatty, you seem almost paranoid, always dashing off for phone calls or something. You've been distant. Distracted. Now I find out you're lying. To my face. Blatantly."

"I'm sorry. It's just..." I tried to defend myself, but only half heartedly. She was right, really. I hadn't been myself ever since the Vakarian invasion. And I couldn't defend myself without mentioning aliens and sounding like a madman.

"Arven. I thought you were serious about us. I certainly was. But if you can't even be honest with me, then there's no point in us continuing. I think we both need to go away and have a long think about what we both really want. Maybe we just weren't meant to be." As she finished, she stood up quickly, to hide the tears in her eyes. I motioned to follow her, but she gestured for me to stay put as she almost ran to the till. I sat, dazed, for a few moments, feeling the strands of my life pull apart as the sky began to cave in. How had a date that started so well end so badly. It was my fault. I should have just told her about my second life.

There was no point in sitting feeling sorry for myself. If I was to have any chance at salvaging the night, I had to act. I followed Sue to the till, but as I reached it, she had already finished paying.
"I've sorted my half, Arven. It's only fair. Don't think about following me home for some grand demonstration of your affections. If you have any respect for me you'll let me walk out that door right now. Let's both have a night to consider, and we can see where we stand in the morning." I was painful for her to say what she was telling me, and almost as painful to hear it. But I understood her perfectly well. I let her leave, as I paid my bill. Who knew what the morning would bring?

CSI Skaro (Or, You're Suckered!)

While the world of televisual media continues to churn out endless copy paste, carbon copy police procedural shows, those of us who enjoy original content are starved of decent television. Each one is functionally identical to the last, with only the central gimmick varying between shows. I envisage a day when the writers run out of locations or scenarios to spin off such shows, and they turn to fictional universes instead. With this in mind, I present to you, dear reader, my concept for a Dalek procedural. CSI: Skaro. Mostly because I haven't been able to stop laughing after thinking about it.

We open on two Daleks patrolling a Skaro street. Our hero, Detective Inspector Derek Dalekson, and his partner, Sargent Arthur Dalek.

Derek: "My functionality is impaired. I require my morning infusion of steaming oil."
Arthur: "Infuse! Infuse!"

Our investigative pair divert to a Dalek equivalent to a coffee shop for hot vessels of steaming oil and doughnut shaped power cells. While they enjoy a beverage, a dispatch call comes through.

Radio: "Alert! Alert! Criminal is on the run in sector Alpha Delta."
Derek: "Acknowledged. Arthur, roll out!"

Both Daleks emit a wailing siren from their voice boxes, as their dome lamps flash blue and red. Lots of quick cuts indicate action as we follow the pair as they chase a Sontaran down a series of back alleys. Finally, the Sontaran is cornered. Panicked, his laser rifle is discharged, striking Arthur. A fatal blow. Enraged, Derek exterminated the criminal.

We cut to the opening titles. Derek travels on his flying disc across the Skaro badlands, zooming amongst rocky outcrops as "Dangerzone by Kenny Loggins plays. This scene is spliced by other clips from the series, showcasing some of the other regular actors. Names appear in 80's font, cascading with repetition of many colours.

Our episode continues after the trippy diversion as we enter the office of the police chief, as played by Davros.

Davros: "You are a loose cannon, Derek."

Derek: "But boss, I get results!"

Davros: "Be that as it may, you cannot be trusted to act in the interests of the Dalek race as a whole. Your wild card tendencies are too unpredictable. You got your partner killed, Derek!"

Derek: "Varga-crap! There was nothing I could have done. Nobody mourns his loss more than me. Don't pin it on me boss."

Davros: "DALEKS DO NOT MOURN! You killed the Sontaran in anger. Daleks do not act according to the whims of petty emotions. Daleks are the ultimate race. You are a disgrace to the force! Hand in your badge and gun arm."

Derek: "Fine by me boss. I'm better as a lone operator anyway."

We enter the era of Derek as a lone wolf private operator, who eventually earns his position back on the force. Most of what follows are mere vignettes, ripe to be expanded if (when) it gets commissioned.

Devoid of weaponry, Derek hastily duct tapes a pistol to his sucker arm.

The Master appears occasionally as Derek's criminal informant.

Daleks in a police station screaming "Interrogate! Interrogate!" at a flustered criminal.

A Dalek judge deciding whether to "Exterminate!" or "Incarcerate!"

Derek, taking the law into his own sucker is able to act outside the law.
Derek: "Daleks have no concept of juries. I am judge and executioner!"

Simply, whenever Derek arrests a suspect, his catchphrase is "You're suckered mate."

TW Casefiles: Silver Linings (2)

I left the Hub and all thoughts of my mission behind as I walked back to my apartment. I had a date to prepare for, with the most amazing woman I'd ever known. It was only a couple minutes walk, in pretty much a straight line. It was nice to live so centrally and directly between the two college buildings where I split my time. As I rounded the corner to enter the apartment complex, I passed the small on site newsagents, which stocked all of the emergency rations a horde of students might need. You can imagine these for yourself. I glanced at the newspaper rack standing forlornly outside of the shop.

"UCC Student Missing: Suspected Late Night Assault" read one headline, on the Examiner.
"UCC Probed Following Student Disappearance From Campus" exclaimed the Independent.
"Lock Up Your Daughters: Psycho Killer On The Prowl In UCC Campus?". Obviously one of the tabloid papers, this one.

I bought one of each paper, and hurried back to my apartment to scan the articles.  I'd spent most of the morning with Captain Jack, and somehow I'd missed a story right in front of me. The gist of the articles revolved around the disappearance of Amanda  Murray, a student of Commerce and a native Corkonian, 21. Amanda was last seen on CCTV walking through the college's medical studies campus at about 2am. The footage showed her walking off screen, passing through a blind spot between security cameras, and never emerging. She was not seen on any cameras after that moment, including the cameras watching the exits of the campus. Garda investigations found nothing significant on campus, nor in any of the buildings near her last known location. There were no eyewitnesses to the event. Leading speculation varied from sexual predators to an unfortunate accident involving a nearby bridge. I vowed to have a look at the site the following day, just in case there was more to this than first impressions would suggest.

I grabbed a quick shower, while I decided on what to wear. I wanted to appear well dressed and decidedly dapper, without being too formal. I settled on a green and purple checked shirt with veridian chinos, trendy Converse, and just a dash of hair gel for that "inch perfect scruffiness" look. I realize that using the word "trendy" in any context should preclude me from any lasting social contact, but it was my reasoning at the time. As I got prepared, my mind raced to the dark corners via the corridors of over analysis. My subconscious kept throwing up potential future details of a relationship with Susan. I had remarkably detailed images of a wedding, children, even sitting in a bank trying to arrange a mortgage! Meanwhile, my conscious mind was fixated on all of my myriad faults, and the thousands of ways I would mess up that night's date. Maybe I'd crack a tasteless joke? Maybe I'd make an arse of myself? Maybe Sue would just see right through me at the gibbering idiot she'd foolishly agreed to have dinner with?

I shook my head, in a pitiful attempt to physically clear my mind from such nonsense, destroying what little improvement I'd had on my hair in the process. Such a line of thought was unfortunately common too me. Some days I wondered if my head was simply broken, mostly I just assumed everyone was like this but they managed to hide it better. I'd managed to loose time due to my mental meandering, so I opted to grab a taxi into the city centre to save time.

In short order, I had arrived at the restaurant where I was to meet Susan. It was a beautiful place, with a 25-metre waterfall taking up one whole side of the outdoor seating area. A romantic spot recommended to me by Tony of all people, loathe as I was to trust his advice. I was still debating whether to wait outside or venture in to confirm our booking when I saw Susan approach.

"You look.. beautiful." I said, unable to think of anything more eloquent at the time. And she did. I've never seen a more stunning sight than Susan walking towards me with open arms. We embraced warmly before separating sand standing apart awkwardly. I took the opportunity to get a better look at her radiance. The smooth curves of her face, that smile that could melt glaciers, auburn hair cascading over her left shoulder. She was dressed in a colourful patterned knee length dress, with a red cardigan keeping out the chill of an October evening. Upon closer observation, I saw that the pattern of her dress was make up of a kaleidoscope of cartoon skulls.

I realized that we had been stood silent for an uncomfortably long while. Eager to break the silence, I blurted.
"I feel a bit overdressed now."
Then my brain caught up with my mouth, before running a mile ahead.
"Not to suggest you're under dressed of course. I mean, you're the correct level of dressed."
Damn. That sounded seedy.
"Of course, what I er... mean to..."
Oh God, how had I managed to ruin everything so quickly?!

Susan merely laughed softly, before replying.
"Arven. Relax. I'm nervous too, it's fine. Why don't we just head inside and find our table?"

TW Casefiles: Silver Linings (1)

It had been about two months since the Vakarian incursion had been thwarted by our little group. I was the only one on the planet to remember it had even happened, thanks to the timey-wimey nature of their technology. As a result, I was once again alone in my stand against whatever evil the rift would deposit in Cork next. It pains me to keep such a secret from my friends, but I had no other choice. There was no way they would believe me if I started to rant about secret invasions and alien warlords. Besides, in defeating the Vakarians, most of my friends were injured or killed. I couldn't risk that again. Next time, there might not be some handy temporal reset button to see the day with.

It had also been two months since Captain Jack Harkness had offered me a job with Torchwood. In that time, he had made arrangements to set up a Cork Hub as a base of operations. There was already some refurbishment work being carried out in the central building of the college's IT campus. A few bribes and generous doses of retcon ensured that an additional basement level was built, strictly off the books, of course. Jack also saw fit to furnish the new Hub with spare technology from one of the old Torchwood warehouses apparently dotted around the UK.

The central room of the hub was a large, round working area. In the centre of the room was a large metallic pillar of sorts, made of various sized panels stacked overlapping each other with not obvious pattern. Several gaps in the panelling acted as windows, showing glimpses of a blue electrical light source pulsing within. The top of the pillar split into a web of pipework as it reaches the ceiling, which ran upwards through the walls of the building above to a sort of lightning rod on the roof of the building. This was the rift manipulator, a prototype of the one installed in the Cardiff Hub. The computers in the Hub could connect to the manipulator and use it as a sort of probe to gauge rift activity. In dire circumstances, it could even be used to adjust the rift itself, though this was too dangerous to consider. Jack made sure to keep the key to the device, to make sure I wasn't tempted to mess with the rift ever.
"Sorry kid,but I've seen firsthand what happens when a team messes with things they don't understand. I'm keeping the key."

One section of the outer wall of the room was dominated by a large curved computer screen, showing various readouts of local news headlines, background rift levels and other such details. Below the screen were two chairs and input terminals. On the opposite side of the room were the doors to a lift which linked the Hub to the building above. Either side of the life were small workstations and tool benches, with a variety of investigative tools I was not yet familiar with. Two other doors led off from this central chamber. One led to a medical bay which contained several human sized morgue freezers, and a small armory. The other led to a corridor which split in two. One branch led to several prison cells, while the other led to an engineering bay and a small garage. The garage contained a ramp leading to the campus carpark, whose exit was disguise with a perception filter outside. As a parting gift, Jack had left me with an older model of one of the Torchwood SUV's. A jet black Land Rover that acted as transportation and mobile hub.

"Right kiddo, that about does it for the tour. When does the rest of your team get to join you in your new clubhouse?" Jack proclaimed, in his loud American drawl.

"They don't. I mean, I don't have a team. Yet, anyway." I answered, somewhat sheepishly.

"You mean you still haven't told them about the Vakarians. About what they've done? You might be good kid, but you can't run all this by yourself!"

"They won't believe me anyway." I said, looking for an excuse, if I'm honest.

"Then show them all of this! Give them proof and they'll believe you. Besides, if it doesn't work out, you have a stash of retcon in the med bay."

"I can't just drug my friends!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah, well, you can't do this on your own either. Being a part of Torchwood means making tough decisions. If you do this alone, without backup, you will die. Sooner or later." Urged Jack, aggressively.

I sighed. There was no point in hiding, I was only fooling myself.
"The reason I haven't.... I mean... even if they believe me, and join... This is dangerous. They might get hurt, even die. I've seen it happen once and I can't go through that again."

Jack put a warm hand on my shoulder. Looking me in the eye, he said.
"Listen. This is not all fun and games. This is a life or death situation. Whatever comes through that rift is a threat, and it will be deadly at times. Believe me when I say I've seen too many good men and women die in the name of duty. Ianto, Tosh, Owen...and so many before them. But they all died ensuring the safety of this planet. And I've seen what happens when you abandon all attachments and go it alone. People still die. Nameless people, bystanders, who might have lived if only you'd had backup, support."

He was right. Was it selfish of me to keep my friends out of it? I'm sure most of them would jump at the chance to be the hero. If they knew about the Hub, I couldn't keep them away, despite the risks. By not telling them, was I just prioritizing their lives over those of the people I was trying to defend? If I kept them in the dark, wouldn't they just be more faceless bystanders anyway? Wouldn't they be better off knowing what was out there and being prepared, rather than being victims of rift activities?

"Look." Jack continued, as I thought about his warning. "Start with one. So you're not alone. What about your hot friend?"

"What?!" I said, confused.

"You know, the one you keep giving puppy dog eyes to. The one with the disarming smile and winning personality." He smiled, enjoying watching me grow increasingly flustered.

"You mean Susan?" I asked, hesitantly.

"That's the one. Stunning, she is. Have you made a move yet? You could bring her down here for a good time. Give her a go on your blaster cannon." He winked, in a way that I can only describe as perfectly Jack.

"How dare you." I began, before Jack interrupted.

"What? There are lots of toys in the armory, surely shell enjoy one of them." His tone changed, as he became serious once more. "I mean it. Tell her about you. About this. Worst case scenario you have to retcon her. Just don't be alone down here."

"Well, actually, we do have a date tonight."

"Perfect. No excuses so. Anyway, I'd best be off. I've left Andy in charge. Gwen and Rhys have a parent teacher meeting. Better get back or there will Winne Weevils in the Assembly. Again." With a final cheeky grin, he activated his Vortex Manipulator and vanished in a puff of electricity. Meanwhile, I had a date to prepare for.

DW - War: The Soldier's Song (10)

"Enough!" bellowed the Warrior, attracting the attention of the Dalek Architect. I could see in his face that he was pained, struggling in vain to retain memories of his comrade, recently erased from time. I took advantage of the distract to continue sneaking around the Dalek towards the lens matrix of the superweapon. The rows of computer terminals provided just enough cover to mask me and the bulky roundel I was entrusted with.

The Dalek wheeled around, to face in the direction of the Warrior's voice.
"DOCTOR." It's electronic grating voice sounded more arrogant than a regular Dalek. "I WAS EXPECTING YOU TO ATTEMPT TO INTERVENE. THOUGH YOU ARE FAR TOO LATE. THE WEAPON HAS PROVED TO BE A SUCCESS."

"At what cost?" replied the Warrior, voice almost cracking. "I can't even recall the victim of your weapon. It doesn't just kill. It rewrites a person's entire existence. They never existed, and nobody remembers them."

"IT IS THE WEAPON THAT SHALL WIN THE WAR FOR THE DALEK RACE. TIME CAN BE REWRITTEN IN OUR FAVOUR, WHILE THOSE WHO OPPOSE US ARE FORGOTTEN."

"I thought the Daleks were the master race? Surely a weapon of this magnitude is merely the last resort of someone afraid of a straight fight?"

"THE DALEKS DID NOT DECIDE THE TERMS OF THIS WAR, DOCTOR. IT WAS YOUR PEOPLE WHO FIRST TRIED TO ERASE OUR EXISTENCE."

"That was lifetimes ago. Before I had the courage to do what was necessary to stop you. It is not a mistake I shall repeat. I was there at your very Genesis and I assure you, I will be there at your end."

"WE SHALL SEE, DOCTOR. YOUR COMPASSION ALLOWED US TO THRIVE. WITH THIS WEAPON, WE HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO PREVENT THE RISE OF THE TIME LORDS. DALEKS WILL BE PRONE TO NO SUCH WEAKNESS HOWEVER."

As the pair bickered with each other, I continued to make slow progress. I was beginning to feel the weight of the load I had to carry. The muscles in my arms were burning with the strain, and I had to struggle not to let it slip between my fingers. I was so preoccupied with the task ahead that I arrived at the lens matrix almost without realizing. Now, all I had to do was hoist the roundel in place, and hopefully everything else would take care of itself.

I was sure that I was in the Warrior's line of sight by now, as I clambered into position. I hoped he could delay the Dalek for a few more moments.

"THE WEAPON IS PRIMED FOR ANOTHER BLAST." came a voice from one of the Daleks below, transmitted via intercom. Unable to turn around in my current position, I could only assume the worst as I heard the Architect engage his motor drive. I would be impossible to miss.

"Eh..." stammered the Warrior, stalling desperately. I heard the motor stop, and reverse slightly. "You can't just take out Gallifrey, you know. It has defences."

"YOU DEFENCES WILL BE NOTHING COMPARED TO THIS WEAPON, COMBINED WITH THE STRATEGY OF THE EXPERIMENTS."

"It's not just the defences though. I mean, the histories of our two races are so deeply linked by now. If the Time Lords were wiped out of time, the consequences on your historical development and the Universe as a while are incalculable."

"THIS MEANS NOTHING. A PATHETIC DEFENSE."

"It could spell the destruction of your own race. Of life as we know it!"

"IT WILL SPELL NOTHING MORE THAN THE ULTIMATE TRIUMPH OF THE DALEKS. EVEN IF TIME IS RIPPED APART, THIS VESSEL, THE EPICENTRE WILL REMAIN. IF WE BECOME THE ONLY LIFE IN THE UNIVERSE, WE SHALL HAVE PROVED OUR MASTERY OF ALL LIFEFORMS. WE WILL BE SUPREME!"

I was done! I flashed the Warrior a quick thumbs up and readied myself to drop back to the floor. I heard the Dalek move again, obviously tired of his engagement with the Warrior. Just before I released my grip, I realized that I hadn't yet primed the roundel. Until I activated it's time field, it was just some heavy plastic! With a desperate flick, I watching in relief as some LED's lit up on its edge. I dropped down behind some electronics as the Dalek spun around.

"SET TARGET FOR GALLIFREY." Ordered the Dalek to his minions below. I began to hurriedly scuttle back to the warrior.

"I urge you to reconsider." warned the Warrior. "You can't be sure of the consequences. Whatever happens next is the result of your actions."

"ENOUGH, DOCTOR. YOUR TIME IS COMPLETE. FIRE THE WEAPON!"

With a shuddering tremor, the beam sparked into life again. The large cylindrical beam struck the lens matrix as it had before, except this time a temporal reflector stood in it's path. Instead of focusing the beam through a network of amplifiers, it was redirected back towards its own origin. The red tint of the beam grew darker, like blood, as the light doubled back upon itself. The barrel of the weapon began to glow white hot. Wailing sirens rang out across the vessel.

"EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!!" Cried the Architect, panicked.

"I tired to warn you." said the Warrior, with a smile that held no mirth. "Your weapon has been rigged to reflect upon itself. Effectively removing itself from time. This is frankly impossible, but don't worry. The paradox engines will give out long before causality is irrevocably strained. In fact, it's a tactic I picked up from a human who fought off some of your damned Vakarians."
"Doctor!" I yelled, no time now to sooth his ego with the relevant title. "Shouldn't we be getting out of here?"
The Dalek Architect was livid, sensing it's imminent destruction. It was only a matter of moments before the unleashed temporal forces ripped him and his craft into atoms. It unleashed an energy blast from its ray gun, destroying the lift controls and our escape route.

The Warrior and I dove for cover behind a particularly large cooling bank to our left. The Architect rose into the air above us, but was still unable to get a clear angle on us. Switching tactics, it fired a continuous beam at the metal bank. In seconds, it was already glowing red and beginning to fizz harshly. The Dalek would punch through in moments. The Warrior withdrew his screwdriver.
"What are you going to do? Fix the metallic structure as the Dalek rips it open?!" I cried, almost hysterical.
"Don't you pay attention. Really." He snorted in response. As he activated his screwdriver, I remembered our earlier escape. I actually cheered with joy as I heard the TARDIS once again. It formed itself around us, keeping us free from external dangers. The Warrior was unable to relax as I was however. He rushed to the controls, keen to remove us from the disaster zone before the whole thing blew.

We rematerialized in the space around the saucer, in the middle of the square of Time Lords summoned earlier. Below us, the vessel crisscrossed with glowing cracked lines. Parts of the hull seemed to disintegrate, revealing a writhing mass of burning energy below us, like the fires of a white sun. There was a dramatic flash, and by the time my eyes had adjusted, the vessel was no more. There was nothing in its place. An implosion, rendered non existent as the weapon destroyed itself. Except for one remaining object. A pirate ship floating in space, before us. With a sudden bang like a punch to the head, I remembered the Corsair. Then I remembered forgetting the Corsair. Time, I had decreed, is weird.

After a brief congratulatory chat with the Gallifreyan strike force, the Warrior bid farewell, saying it was time he dropped me home.
"Probably for the best." I mused, although honestly I didn't know if I wanted to stay or go. The Warrior needed someone by his side, a companion to keep him in check, but I wasn't built for war. Fighting rift based threats in Cork was not comparable to the horrors of time based warfare.

"Here we are. Same rooftop where I picked you up, and only five minutes have passed in relative time."

"Doctor, I..."

"Don't! For the last time..."

"Doctor. Listen, please. You are a good man, whatever you tell yourself. I know you need to think that you're a different person right now, to give you strength to keep fighting. But you are fundamentally the same man you have always been. You are not cruel or cowardly, despite what you tell yourself. Even today, you stood against the Daleks without flinching. And despite their plans, you still have them a chance to back down. It was their own arrogance and blood lust that killed them, not you."

"Mere semantics. Any act if war can be justified or rationalized in the moment."

"Believe what you must, Warrior. But you're still the Doctor to me."

As I said my final piece, I was ushered out of the TARDIS by the Doctor. Form the doorway, he gave me a final cheery wave, before responding.
"You are utterly incorrigible, Arven. And stubborn as a mule. Humans just don't take no for an answer! Nonetheless, I look forward to meeting you again. When I've shrugged of this mantle and the Doctor can return."

"Goodbye, Doctor."

With a chuckle, he shut the door. Moments later, the TARDIS vanished, off to some other battlefield, no doubt.

DW - War: The Soldier's Song (9)

To retain an element of tactical stealth, the TARDIS materialized in one of the side corridors near the central control zone.
"Bit of a walk never hurt anyone." the Warrior said, lightly. I just hoped that the assault outside was enough to keep the Dalek's attention from us. I ended up having to carry the roundel the Warrior had removed from his TARDIS. It was an awkward load to bear, and about the shape and mass of a car tyre. We reentered the control room, sticking close to the wall as we did so. Sure enough, the Daleks were all too preoccupied with computer terminals and battle screens to notice our intrusion.

The black and red Dalek Temporal Architect was occupying a small raised platform in the centre of the room issuing orders to its subordinates. The twin lights attached to either side of its done flashed with an angry red glow in time with his speech.
"BATTLE STATUS! UPDATE! UP-DATE!"
It roared in it's deep furious baritone. One of the silver and blue Daleks responded in a higher pitched whine.

"CURRENT ATTACK STRATEGY INEFFECTIVE AGAINST TIME LORD WEAPONRY."

"WHAT OF THE EXPERIMENTS? WHAT COUNCIL CAN THEY OFFER?" questioned the leader.

One of the viewscreens switched to display a room containing three more unfortunate souls, who had been turned into Omni-Voyants, the Dalek's answer to Minority Report. One of them spoke in a measured, expressionless tone.
"The future is clouded to us. We sense intense temporal disturbance at these spacial temporal coordinates. Proceed with caution."

"All this suffering and pain of genetic experimentation, and they still end up with nothing more than fortune cookie premonitions." The Warrior sighed.

"VICTORY MUST BE ASSURED. READY THE DEMATERIALIZATION ARRAY. I SHALL ASCEND TO THE WEAPONS DECK. ASCEND. ASCEND!"

"We've got to get to that platform!" I exclaimed. As I spoke, it begun to raise from the floor. I traced it's path upwards towards the ceiling, where I could see a corresponding circular hole now illuminated. "There must be some other entrance to that level."

The Warrior looked stern. "None that we could reach in time. But chin up, there's a good lad. We don't need anything else."

"Oh great, just two dozen Daleks in our way. Don't forget them." I said, in a forceful whisper.

He rubbed his brow thoughtfully. He had a plan, the Doctor usually does. He had more than a little experience with defeating Daleks after all. He unsheathed his screwdriver from his bandolier.
"The Daleks share a kind of neural network, called the Pathweb." He explained.
"They use it to share data, imagine it as their operating system crossed with a messenger. Like any software, it's prone to exploits, if you know what you're doing."

With a cheerful wink, he activated his screwdriver. The effect was instantaneous and dramatic. The gathered Daleks were instantly blinded, cut off from their visualisers as their systems crashed. A Dalek's eyestalk is merely a camera that feeds directly to a viewer within its casing. The Warrior had severed this connection, however briefly.

"MY VISION IS IMPAIRED. ALERT. ALERT. PATHWEB HACK DETECTED. SWITCHING TO THERMAL IMAGING."

"Quickly now, run! It'll only last a few seconds."

We ran towards the platform, still raising slowly towards the ceiling. We flung our arms upwards towards metal support bars on the underside of the elevating disc, allowing ourselves to be brought upwards in the wake of the Architect. With surprising deftness, the Warrior secured the roundel to his bandolier, now wearing the disc as a sort of backpack. We managed to rise without being spotted by the Daleks below, who were distracted with their discovery of the TARDIS outside.

The lift finally shuddered as it locked into place on the upper level. As the Architect maneuvered from the platform towards a control terminal, the Warrior and I silently clambered upwards and surveyed our surroundings. This room was of a similar size to the room below, though it was devoid of Daleks, apart from the Architect. The vaulted ceiling of the room was displaying a wrapped around holographic projection of the battle outside, as if we were in a domed observation deck atop the saucer. Large banks of computers and other science fiction paraphernalia were arranged around the floor of this level, what I presumed to be the paradox engines. Dominating the room was a large cylindrical structure suspended horizontally from the ceiling. It stretches from the centre of the room towards the wall opposite from our current position. A confusing array of pipework and wires snaked around the cylinder and stretched off in every direction. It looked like the barrel of some monstrous gun, aimed at an array of glasswork and crystal embedded in the opposite wall. I imagined this was some manner of focusing apparatus that directed whatever beam was fired from the weapon towards its intended target.

Silently, the Warrior shrugged the detached roundel from his back and handed it back to me. He gave me a look which I interpreted as an instruction. I was to try and position the roundel in the path of the beam while he distracted the Dalek. I ducked behind one of the computer banks, and prepared myself for the task ahead. As we readied ourselves, the Architect spoke, his voice echoed throughout the craft, as he addressed his subordinates.

"PREPARING TO FIRE THE DEMAT WEAPON. ALL COMBAT DALEKS SHOULD VACATE THE TARGET RADIUS. WE SHALL SHOW THE TIME LORDS THE TRUE POWER OF DALEK ENGINEERING. WE SHALL COMMENCE A NEW ERA OF DALEK SUPREMACY, WITH SUCH TEMPORAL DESTRUCTION AT OUR COMMAND. ERADICATE THE TIME LORDS. ERADICATE!"

I could feel the vibrations under my feet as the gathered Daleks continued the chant below. Or perhaps it was merely the weapon generating enough power to launch it's projectile. Before either of us could react, the Architect had fired the weapon. I was forced to shield my eyes as a blinding red light pulsed from the cylinder overhead and struck the crystal lattice. Shortly after, on the display of the ship's exterior, I saw the flaming blast emerge and strike one of the Battle TARDISES. The Corsair's Schooner.

In the aftermath of the discharge, nothing remained of the TARDIS, not even a cloud of vapour or debris. This was the power of such a weapon; it didn't destroy it's target, it removed it from the timestream, as if it never existed. I stumbled onto one knee, due to the splitting pain in my head. It was agony to experience the rip in time happening before me, as my memories were forcibly rewritten. I could only imagine how painful it must have been for a time sensitive, like the Warrior, or the Omni-Voyants. No wonder their view was clouded. And then I struggled to recall exactly what had happened... Had something been destroyed by the Dalek weapon? Why couldn't I remember who was leading the Time Lord assault outside? Why did I have an image of an ouroborous emblazoned in my mind?

DW - War: The Soldier's Song (8)

The TARDIS screen flashed a symbol of a snake eating it's own tail, while a bleeping alert sounded. The Warrior walked to answer the incoming message, wry smile on his face.
"Ah, the Corsair! Couldn't have asked for a better man."

On the screen, the symbol faded as it was replaced by a video feed of a young woman dressed in what I could only describe as steampunk pirate. On the left side of her neck, I could just make out a tattoo of the same ouroborus symbol.
"My dear Doctor, is that any way to talk to a lady?" She said with a smirk.

The Warrior tried and partially succeeded in hiding his embarrassment.
"So, you've regenerated again, it would seem. What was it this time, hmm? Change of scenery, perhaps a failed pistol duel? Or maybe you just tripped over a brick. Again."

"Ouch. You cut me with such razor wit, Doctor. At least I have my rapier to defend myself this time." The pair were enjoying a brief respite from the concerns of war. For a small moment, they were two friends reminiscing. All too quickly, the smile eased from the Corsair's face.
"Actually, it was a horde of Skaro Degredations on Ganon 5. Lucky to have escaped at all."

"Well, it's good to see you all the same. We'll have to have a proper catch up when we've taken care of these Daleks. Do you still have that 17th Century tea-chest?"

The Corsair burst into laughter.
"The one from our run in with the clockwork pirates? Of course, I've been saving it for a special occasion. Tell you what, I'll brew us a pot when we're done here. Over and out."

"Old friend?" I asked the Warrior suggestively, as he turned towards me. "Yes, from our days in the... No. Not like that! Humans, minds always in the gutter. This is why all the civilized races avoid Earth you know." His tone was terse, but I could tell by his eyes that he was joking.

The Warrior led me to the doors of the TARDIS and opened them wide. We were frozen in the sky above Vakar, the Dalek ship stretching out before us like a giant silver floor. We watched as several cylindrical devices materialized opposite from our location. Each one was about 10ft tall and 3ft in diameter, and had a variety of tubes and barrels arranged around their circumference. Olistra's cavalry had arrived. Leading the charge was the Corsair, or at least, the battle TARDIS I assumed belong to them. Even the Doctor wouldn't fly a 17th Century Schooner across the Universe.

The battle began as soon as the crafts arrived. It was a dizzying sight to behold, and the Warrior did his best to explain the array of weapons on display as we waited for our window to appear in the distraction. Torpedoes launched that froze their targets, immobile in a fraction of time, making easy targets. Against the Time Lord charge, the Daleks launched squads of their own, their metallic casings flying through the sky, needling the battle TARDISES. Larger Dalek shells, and fighter craft poured out from the vessel below, acting as heavy hitters against the assault. I saw laser beams that caused their targets to explode. The Corsair's ship angled parallel to the hull of the Dalek vessel and unleashed a broadside of energy weapons. Where each blast impacted, I saw the metal tarnish and decay in a matter of moments, crumbling into dust. Given the sheer scale of the Dalek craft, the damage was minimal though. My head was spinning at the scale of the fight below me. TARDISES phased into and out of dimensions, hopping several seconds in time or several hundred meters in space with each transition. They followed a seemingly random pattern, preventing the Daleks from tracking them with their heavier weapons. Some of the TARDISES fired projectiles that reminded me of the legend of Cuchulainn, specifically Gae Bolg. Like the spear of legend, these projectiles would always strike their foes. The legend spoke of a weapon of last resort, guaranteed to kill it's target. Similarly, these projectiles reversed cause and effect. Essentially, they had already struck Daleks before they had fired.

"Right!" Exclaimed the Warrior, suddenly. "That's gotten their attention. With any luck, the Daleks will think we're out here fighting. At worst, they're expecting us, but we've thinned their interior ranks quite significantly."

"So, we just wander in and shut down their super-weapon?" I asked, skeptically.

"Well, that's the gist, though it won't be quite as easy as you imply."

"Oh good. For a second I was afraid it wouldn't be a suitable challenge. How do you propose we do it, anyway. When we defeated the Vakarians, we overloaded the Paradox Engines."

"Yes, a good plan it was, too. But it won't be so easy this time. You're not up against a test-case with a built in safety net. There's no convenient button to press to save the day this time."

"You do have a plan though, right?" I ventured, hesitantly.

"Of course. See those round things on the wall? Be a good lad and help me prise one off, would you?"

I held the round thing as the Warrior worked his screwdriver carefully around the edges of it. He informed me that the round things act as a sort of resonance chamber for temporal energy. Like the interior of a fusion reactor that uses magnetic fields to contain super hot plasmas, these roundels generate a field that refocuses radiant temporal energy back towards the tine rotor.  Shortly, the device tilted forward, pulling me forward as I struggled to catch it. It weighed more that you might expect. On the back of the roundel were a number of wires and assorted electrical gubbins, presumably the mechanism that generated the temporal field.

"Righteo." said the Warrior. "Back into the lion's den we go. Let's just hope that luck is on our side."

DW - War: The Soldier's Song (7)

The Warrior and I looked helplessly at the body of the Omni-Voyant, lying on the floor of the TARDIS. He was clearly dying, but fought to say a few final words.
"Doctor.... they've merged... paradox engine... with.... D-Mat technology..." he gasped, urgently. "Plan to... remove Gallifrey..."

The Warrior's aged face was lined with concern. He was conflicted. His instincts as a doctor, as the Doctor, were to comfort this dying wretch. But he needed to press for more information, for the greater good  as he kept calling it. Compassion gave way to necessity.
"Where are they keeping the weapon? On the saucer below?"

"Yes... the weapon... and the other... experiments... Doctor, let them... die.... this is.... no life...." With a final shuddering breath, he heart gave out, his eyes glassed over, and he fell still. The Warrior closed the man's eyes delicately, before standing to his feet.

"I knew him, you know." He said to me. "The Archivist, that was his title. He worked in the Panopticon library, in the Citadel of Gallifrey. I daresay we ran him round the bend with our childish antics, back in my Academy days. He always let us get away with it though. Must have recognized himself in us I suppose." He turned back towards the TARDIS console, putting his back to me, or hiding his face, I couldn't tell.

"But then the War came, and everyone volunteered to do their part. To fight against evil, and return to peaceful lives. Volunteers like the Archivist. Old men on their final regenerations. Mere children barely out of the Academy. How many of those brave volunteers have died? Would they be proud of their sacrifice? How many more like them must die, in the name of peace?" His voice was cracking under the weight of the suffering he bore.

"Doctor, I..." I stammered, trying to lend some sort of support, but failing to find the right words.

He spun around to face me, eyes misty and red, pointing at his dead kin.
"Not only death. Oh no, not in this Time War. Those brave soldiers are tortured. Mutated. Irrevocably changed and stripped of dignity. Mere death is a blessing compared to such monstrous deeds." He took a deep breath, his rage dissipating as he thought about his next actions.
"No more. This ends here and now."

Suddenly, he was his resolute self again, all trace of his outburst confined to our memories. If it was so easy for him bottle up such thoughts  I wondered, how many other secrets did he hide. What horrors had he seen?
"So, what's first?" I asked, choosing to avoid discussing his outburst.

"Calling in the cavalry. We're good, but even I don't fancy taking on an entire Dalek control ship by myself." he said, while activating a screen on his console.
"Olistra? Are you receiving me?"

An old woman appeared on the Warrior's screen, dressing in the same scarlet and gold robed finery as the Archivist.
"Ah, Doctor. To what do I owe this unwarranted intrusion?"

"I need a squadron of Battle TARDISES, at these coordinates."

"Oh? Is my little soldier actually giving orders? What do you want them for? There is a War on, after all. I can't just send you a whole squadron if you're simply locked out of your capsule."

"Actually there's a cat stuck in a tree, Olistra. Complicated somewhat by the little fact that said tree happened to be located on a Dalek control saucer. One being lead by the Dalek Time Architect."

"That's a new one on me anyway. They do so love their titles." The pair were full of snark and snide as they talked, but the mutual respect they shared for each other was clear to see. They both seemed to enjoy such a back and forth.

"Turns out he's trying to merge a D-Materialisation gun with a Paradox Engine."

"My word! Not only would they be able to remove people or places from their existence within a time line... The Paradox Engine could enforce the altered timeline and contain any temporal fallout."

"Yes. We'd be unable to fix said timeline until the Paradox Engine was destroyed. Which leads onto the second issue. Time Lord POW's, mutated and forged into clairvoyant beings. Loyal to their Dalek masters and able to activate threats and advise appropriate countermeasures."

"In other words, an advance warning system to defend their paradox engines. If they were capable of firing such a weapon upon Gallifrey, we'd be powerless and o prevent our own erasure from existence!"

"Glad you see it my way, Olistra. Me and my temporary companion here have a plan to tack out the big guns. But we need someone to run interference. Let the squadron distract their remaining Omni-Voyants while we sneak aboard in the confusion."

Olistra looked troubled. Obviously trusting this man with actual military assets was not something she relished, or even trusted. Autonomous spirits such as the Doctor are dangerous on a battlefield, after all. Unquestioning obedience is preferred.

The Warrior disconnected the transmission without saying goodbye. He turned around to me once more, looking exceptionally pleased with himself.

"So, you actually have a plan then?" I asked him, brow furrowing.

"Not as such." He admitted, still smiling. "But we have a few minutes before our back up arrives."

DW - War: The Soldier's Song (6)

We found ourselves in the heart of a Dalek command ship. Scattered around us engaged in various duties were the classic bronze Daleks, with a number of unusual variants. Silver Daleks with light blue spheres and trim, which I took to be some kind of scientific caste. Directly in front of us was a slightly larger Dalek, black with red highlights and more decorated neck grilles. Obviously some sort of leader.

"Ah, and there we are." The Warrior was looking being proved right. "Who do I have the honour of addressing? The Dalek Time Strategist? Or maybe the Dalek Temporal Schemer? Possibly the Chronon Inspector?"

"THE TEMPORAL ARCHITECT, DOCTOR." responded the Dalek in it's electronic grating voice.

"My my, how very grand!" He replied, dripping in mock awe. "See Arven, I told you the Omni-Voyants were shams."

"THE ORACLES ARE GENUINE, DOCTOR. EXCEPT THEY ARE A DALEK CREATION, BRED AND ENGINEERED TO GAZE ACROSS THE TIMELINES, ENSURING A DALEK VICTORY."

I was having a hard time keeping up to be honest. This was all a Dalek plot as far as I could gather. The Omni-Voyants, or Oracles, were created by the Daleks to sense the outcomes of battle. So the Daleks had armed the Vakarians then, presumably as a weapons test. And if the ensuing chaos happened to distract any meddling Time Lords in the meantime, it was a bonus to them.

The Warrior was growing concerned.
"Dalek creations.... How exactly?" He turned to look at the Oracle behind us, now that it's perception filter was deactivated. I turned at the same time, to see a horrific sight. A humanoid figure stood before us, pulsing with an inner orange glow, though now details could be discerned in it's face. It was a male figure, who wore scarlet robes with gold trim, and a pained grimace on his face.

"Time Lords!" He roared. "You were experimenting on Time Lords?"

"PRISONERS OF WAR. THOSE WHO DO NOT POSSESS STRATEGIC INTELLIGENCE ARE MADE TO SERVE THE DALEK WAR EFFORT IN OTHER WAYS."

"But this is monstrous! What have you done to him? It looks like he's got artron energy coursing through his system, frozen mid regeneration." The Warrior was aghast, even for someone who had seen and done terrible things in this battle already, this was a disgusting perversion of nature. My stomach felt bottomless, like a void of despair while a cold dread permeated my torso. I fought the urge to vomit, to scream, to run in terror, but fear had rendered me immobile.

The Warrior stared at the corrupted Time Lord sadly.
"How could they...  I will avenge you. You have my word. They will not get away with this travesty."

He turned away from the wretched figure, his face a mask once more. In a livelier tone, he addressed the Dalek leader once more.
"Well, I think I've seen more than enough for one lifetime. It's been as much a pleasure as always. Once again, your customary skills as a host are inimitable, but we really ought to be going. Arven, grab your coat and say goodbye to our captors."

"THERE IS NO ESCAPE DOCTOR, EXCEPT IN DEATH." warned the Architect.

The Warrior had slipped one hand into his jacket pocket. I heard the faintest buzz of his screwdriver, muffled by the leather of his coat.

One of the Science Daleks spoke in a high pitched alarmed voice.
"ALERT! ALERT! TEMPORAL ACTIVITY DETECTED!"

"EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!" boomed the Architect.

"Sorry boys." smiled the Warrior. "Looks like my taxi has arrived. Now if you'll excuse me, the meter is running."

"TARDIS MATERIALIZING!" screamed the scientist Dalek.

"EXTERMINATE THEM!" Ordered the leader.

During the commotion, a breeze had begun to swirl around us in the Dalek bridge. While the Daleks screamed for our demise, their pronouncements were drowned out by an overpowered groan of the TARDIS' mighty engines. I've never heard a more beautiful sound than in that moment. It began to form around us. Being inside the TARDIS as it appeared was a most disconcerting experience. My view of the control centre faded as the coral junkyard of the Warrior's TARDIS phased in. The two locations seemed to battle for dominance, alternating between both realities periodically. Rather quickly, the TARDIS interior became mercifully solid. In my last glimpse of the Daleks however, I saw several flashes emerge from their arm cannons. I could only hope that we had formed in time, and that the stray blades would impact harmlessly on the exterior. I looked for the Warrior, already racing about the controls, removing us from the lion's den. The Omni-Voyant had been close enough to us to be taken too, but as I faced him, I realised we had not been so fortunate. He had collapsed to his knees, suffering from a direct hit by a Dalek death ray.

DW - War: The Soldier's Song (5)

To my surprise, the Warrior seemed unperturbed by the Omni-Voyant's suggestion of double genocide. In fact, he even welcomed it.
"The atrocities committed by both sides of the War... There is little difference between my people and the Daleks anymore. Each doing anything for the sake of victory, without consideration for the collateral damage."

"Then, you see things from our perspective, Doctor? You see what must be done, why we must embark on this sordid mission?"

"No! You can't, Doctor!" I yelled. How could he even contemplate such an action. Double genocide?! Maybe this man was further removed from the Doctor than I had thought.

"Do not call me that!"

"Doctor! Warrior! Whatever, it doesn't matter. You cannot do this, please! It's genocide!" I was begging him to reconsider. "If you wipe out your people, you will never have existed either!"

"Would that be such a great loss?" he said softly. I realized then, he had a death wish! This man hated himself so much, so full of regret and pain, that he was searching for a cause he could die for. He was so twisted by the War that he didn't care about survival, he wanted only to end the fighting. By any possible means. There was no way I could convince him otherwise.

While I stood, stunned and staring, the Warrior continued to converse with the Omni-Voyant.
"Shall we pay a visit to your control centre then? I'd like to inspect your paradox engine for myself. Not that I don't trust you of course, but temporal engineering can be so fiddly, you know?"

"Certainly Time Lord. Follow me."

We travelled through a maze of white corridors, each one indistinguishable from the previous and littered with identical offshoots. I knew that there was no way I'd find my way back to the TARDIS alone. I hoped that the Warrior remembered, assuming he didn't erase his own existence in the meantime. Was I just to be collateral damage for him, in the end? We travelled for what felt like miles, and as I remembered the sheer scale of the craft, we probably had. After a while the Warrior slowed his pace minutely, hanging back from our guide to whisper to me.

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm appalled by your lack of faith."

"You have a plan then. I mean, one that doesn't involve temporal genocide?"

"Something tells me we're not getting the full story, but I have a sneaking suspicion about what's really going on. Follow my lead, OK?"

With that, he caught up with the Omni-Voyant, and started to walk ahead of it.
"Please follow me. It is easy to get lost in these corridors." It spoke, it's voice just a little to harsh. Could it be making a threat?

"I just fancy stretching my legs, it's fine."  responded the Warrior. "I'm used to walking at a faster pace. Hmm, this way, I think." He announced, turning right.

"No!" It exclaimed, expressing a marked increase in emotion. "The shortest path is this way."

"If you have nothing to hide, then what's the issue with a little detour?"

"It is.... That path leads only to our nourishment halls. It is irrelevant." It sounded nervous now.

"Excellent! Sounds educational! What do you say, Arven? Fancy sampling an Omni-Voyant canteen?"

By now I had twigged his plan, so I agreed with some vigour. Our guide sighed as it realised it had no choice. We all followed the Warrior's lead. Shortly after, we entered a wide open room. The blinding whiteness of the decor was broken by glowing patterns spread across the walls, blinking rhythmically.

"Oh, very good!" Announced the Warrior, as he flung open the doors. "Nice try, a real cutting edge effort, but really... Did you expect a perception filter to fool me? Telltale haze in the corner of the eye. Not to mention, I'm more than familiar with the layout of your corridors. I've been here often enough."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Why tell when I can show?" The Warrior drew his sonic screwdriver and activated it. With a low buzzing, it interfered with the perception filter. With a shimmer, I saw the room for what it really was. The walls were curved, and covered in a kind of bronze honeycomb pattern. Control terminals and interfaces were scatted around the room, each with large spherical controls as opposed to buttons and switches. The room was in fact full of aliens who had been previously hidden. Aliens which inhabited metal travel machines. Aliens bred for war. We were in a Dalek command ship.